


Heatstroke

by HobbitSpaceCase



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Steve Harrington, Angst, Billy is an asshole, Knotting, M/M, Omega Billy Hargrove, Sad Ending, Smitten Steve, but only because he doesn't think he has any other choice, dubcon due to heatsex, heatsex, neil hargrove sucks, possibly the first in a series, with a happier ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15088499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitSpaceCase/pseuds/HobbitSpaceCase
Summary: Billy is out of suppressants and going into Heat.  Steve finds him.  It's too bad Billy can't have this every time.





	Heatstroke

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a MASSIVE thank you to Sachanpwns for the beta work. They helped me clean this up a ton as well as cheerleading it to completion, and it wouldn't be nearly as good without their help.
> 
> Second, I'm toying around with the idea of turning this into a short series, so this may or may not be the end. We'll see!

Every last thing about Hawkins, Indiana, fucking _sucked._

A shiver ran down Billy’s spine as he glared at his empty pill bottle. The last pill had disappeared down his throat a full two weeks ago, and more suppressants didn’t come cheap in the middle of fucking nowhere, America. Especially when his dad’s new insurance didn’t cover them. Hell, even if his dad’s insurance _did_ cover them, not like he’d want to shell out his own cash on medications for Billy’s shameful problem, and all of Billy’s money currently went into gas and maintenance for his baby.

Fuck. He was so goddamn _fucked._

The warmth that curled into his gut was a warning of worse things to come. He’d only suffered through one Heat in his life back in California, when he first presented and before he got on the cheap suppressants provided by the state. Indiana didn’t fucking have state-sponsored suppressants. They just expected their residents to live like fucking savages, going in to Heats and Ruts where-the-fuck-ever. It was bizarre and rage-inducing, the knowledge that he was going to have to deal with his Heat all because his dad had dragged him to some conservative little town in middle America to play house with his new wife. All he could be thankful for was that it was hitting on a Saturday morning. With any luck, the Heat would be over by Sunday evening. 

It would be a shame to be outed as an omega to his classmates after putting so much effort into cowing all the losers in his tiny new school.

He swiped the empty suppressant bottle off his nightstand. It flew to the side and clattered to the floor, where momentum kept it rolling beneath his makeshift vanity. It clunked against the wall with a hollow sound, taunting him with its emptiness. His head dropped into his hands, fingers already tangled in his hair. He tugged, uselessly, against the insistent spikes of warmth in his gut that were already driving his heart rate up, a rabbiting weight in his chest that crushed the breath from his lungs. Another few hours and he’d be producing enough slick to fill Steve Harrington’s fancy pool.

Thinking about Steve Harrington, he realized a second later, was a bad move. The smell of omega in Heat flared in the room, sickeningly sweet in Billy’s nose, and he felt himself grow wet in his jeans.

A moment later, his door opened and startled him out of his angry morass of self-pity.

“What?” he said and he knew that his voice was too rough, too angry. It was hard to care when the first cramp doubled him over with a hitched groan. By the time he was able to look up again, his dad was sneering at him from the doorway, disgust obvious in his eyes. Billy couldn’t help the angry thought that neither of them would have to be dealing with his Heat if they’d stayed in Cali. It _wasn’t fair._

“Your step-mother and I are taking Maxine on a camping trip this weekend,” his dad said, teeth bared at the stink of approaching Heat saturating Billy’s room. “You’re not to leave the house while we’re gone. Susan left food for you in the fridge, and emergency contact numbers on the pad on the kitchen table. I’m taking your car keys with us.”

Billy’s head snapped up, mouth flying open on a fruitless protest that died at the hard glare on his dad’s face. “What if I need my car?” he asked and he knew how pathetic he sounded, even as the words left his mouth.

The glare on his dad’s face intensified. “I don’t see what could possibly make you need to drive around in your… _current condition_ ,” he said, the words like ice in his mouth.

Fighting the bowing of his neck under the weight of his dad’s glare, Billy held himself rigid and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” his dad said. “We’ll be back Sunday evening, and I expect you to have aired this place out by then.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy repeated, teeth clenched against the rest of what he wanted to say. His dad’s frown softened minutely.

“You know how bad it is for Maxine to be around you like this,” he said, the words almost gentle, even as he implied that fucking _Maxine_ , his prized little alpha, would try to take advantage of him. Still, arguing would get him nowhere, and he was hardly in a state to argue, anyway.

After a few more moments of staring, his dad finally left, shutting the door behind him. Billy flopped back on his bed with a groan. A shudder wracked through his whole body, leaving the tips of his fingers and his toes tingling with adrenaline. As much as he hated the shame that coiled through his stomach by his dad leaving to escape his Heat, he couldn’t help but be grateful. It _would_ be easier to get through without Neil Hargrove breathing down his neck.

The sounds of people moving through the house around him cut off when the front door slammed. A moment later, he heard his dad’s car start up. Once the sound of his dad’s car disappeared, Billy finally felt comfortable enough to stumble to the kitchen for a glass of water and some toast. He avoided the carefully marked tupperware in the fridge. Susan’s cooking wasn’t the worst he’d ever had, but spite was a more powerful motivator than hunger when it came to his doormat of a stepmom. 

After the third glass of water, his knees started to feel weak. He’d taken a few aspirin with the water, even though he knew it wouldn’t do much and would wear off well before his Heat did. Still, he dragged himself back to his room, collapsed to his bed, and wished desperately for the day to be over.

Time slipped by in fits and starts, his skin growing warmer as more slick dripped down his thighs.

The clock by his bedside ticked the seconds away. Each one bled more slowly into the next as his world narrowed down to the burning heat between his legs, the slickness on his thighs, and the crushing _need_ for someone to fill him and breed him and claim him.

_Tick, tick, tick,_ went the clock, as if it _knew_ how sluggish, how heavy, his blood pulsed through burning veins.

His head lolled to the sided, a baleful glare directed at the nightstand. Barely an hour had passed since he was left on his own. The walls of the already small house squeezed in closer, choking him.

_Tick, tick, tick._

With a growl worthy of any alpha, he swung his arm across the nightstand, sending the clock crashing to the floor along with his lighter and a half-full pack of cigarettes, scattering them across the floor.

God, but he wanted a cigarette. He knew from the one previous Heat he’d experienced and from the smell lingering in his room that lighting one up would send him straight to the bathroom to heave his guts up, but he _wanted_ one so deep it was like another physical ache inside him. The spilled cigarettes glared bright against the dirty floor, taunting him. Looking at them made his head spin with a dizzying combination of desire and nausea. It took a few minutes of staring for him to realize the reason his vision swam so much was because of the tears dripping down his cheeks.

He swiped at his eyes angrily while his face scrunched up in a useless snarl.

As soon as he turned eighteen, he was leaving this midwestern hell-hole and getting back to a place with affordable Heat-blockers. All he had to do till then was survive. If only that didn’t already sound nearly impossible.

The anger subsided after a few more minutes, giving way again to the fire in his gut and the slick leaking from his hole. It was so hot in his room. Hot and close and stifling. The air was too close and not close enough at once, full of his own sickly sweet Heat smell and barren of the delicious scent of an alpha who could take care of him. 

An alpha who could press him down against the bed, tear his sweat-soaked clothes from his overheated body, and fill the empty, aching hole between his legs. 

He was so pathetically _desperate_ for it.

With a frustrated whine, he heaved himself upright on the bed and shucked his pants down his legs. He barely tugged them all the way off before he collapsed back on the bed, legs spread obscenely open with one hand shoved roughly between his thighs. He didn’t even need to touch his cock for his first orgasm. By the time he got two fingers inside himself, curled expertly against his prostate even with the awkward angle, his cock was already drooling. It barely took any work to get his untouched cock to shoot come all the way up his chest, warm and sticky and _unsatisfying_.

Barely any relief followed the orgasm. It seemed only to stoke the fire in his veins to new heights. Liquid heat coursed through him, demanding satisfaction he could not provide.

More whines spilled from his lips as he added a third finger, spreading his legs and twisting his hips to a nearly painful angle to reach his prostate. His other hand drifted down to fist his cock, smearing his own come over the hard length of it till his hand slid easily over slick, wet skin. He still had _hours_ more of this, maybe a whole day more, and already he felt close to fracturing, splitting apart at ragged seams, bursting like a can in a pressure cooker and splattering all over his Heat-stinking walls.

His breath was loud and ragged in the empty room, drawn into heaving lungs and expelled through clenched teeth as shame and anger twisted with the heat in his belly, when another sound suddenly cut through the haze of his mind.

The noise repeated a moment later, the sharp rap of a fist against the front door.

Probably more of those fucking mormons that Max always talked to. If she would just stop talking to them, they’d stop showing up. He wondered a bit savagely what they would they would think if they knew what he was doing. A particularly hard thrust of his fingers and he threw his head back with a loud moan.

_Not a chance in hell he was answering that door._

o0o 

Steve was _not_ pleased about being sent to pick up Max. She lived out on the edge of town, and Lucas wasn’t allowed by her house anymore after nearly getting caught by her step-dad last week. Apparently, that meant Steve was now the only person capable of picking her up. He wasn’t really sure _why_ it was better for a high school senior to pick up a thirteen year old girl than a kid her own age, but Dustin, _especially_ Dustin, could be incredibly insistent when it came to getting Steve to do something.

So here he was, outside Billy Hargrove’s house, hoping he wasn’t about to get murdered by the guy _or_ his dad all so he could ferry another preteen to Dungeons and Dragons.

Billy’s car was the only one in the driveway. The garage door was closed, and Steve hoped there were more people home. If he had to choose between an annoyed father and the guy who had already beat the shit out of him once, he’d take the father. Steve was great with other people’s parents, in spite of being an idiot at most other things.

No one answered his first knock at the door. He gave it a few seconds and then knocked again, harder. Still, no one showed up. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. “It’s like they _want_ me to get murdered.” He knocked one more time and glared over at the Camaro in the driveway. Maybe Billy knew it was him somehow and was ignoring him on purpose. He wouldn’t put it past the asshole. If he didn’t show up with Max, though, the Party would never stop pestering him. They might even send Lucas to try to find her, and he couldn’t put the poor kid through that, not if Billy was the one watching his step-sister.

Most of the house looked dark and empty as he walked around the back to look in a few windows. He could only imagine what would happen if Billy caught him peering through windows like a creep, but he soldiered on, anyway.

Around the back of the house, he almost passed by one window that was tucked up against the corner behind a bush. As his gaze slide to the next window, a flash of light off something metallic caught his eye. Drawn like a moth to a flame, he stepped closer. The flash reminded him of the rings Billy liked to wear. He had stared at those rings more than once in their shared history class, distracted by the shine of them while the teacher droned on about things he didn’t care about. Steve continued creeping closer and wondered just how pissed off Billy would be if he knocked on the window to ask where Max was. Surely, he could get to his car before Billy could get out of the house to knock him out again. Yet, a few feet from the window, Steve froze.

It was Billy’s window, all right. He was obviously looking right into Billy’s room, and he knew, now, why Billy hadn’t answered the door. The other boy was naked and splayed out on top of his covers, one hand wrapped around his thick, hard cock. His rings glinted in the sunlight coming through his window while the fingers of his other hand slid in and out of his slick, open hole.

Billy Hargrove was an omega, and from the looks of things, an omega in Heat. Billy, who postured and snarled and bit as soon as he rolled into Hawkins. Billy, who was uncontrollable and _dangerous_. Billy, who Steve had been _sure_ was an alpha.

Steve had never seen something so simultaneously unexpected and captivating.

Billy’s mouth was open and his eyes squeezed shut, and Steve could almost imagine the way he must have sounded as he spilled all over his chest and belly, adding to the semen that already painted tan skin nearly all the way to his chin. He didn’t realize how blatantly he was staring till Billy’s head tipped sideways, chest heaving as his eyes blinked open. As soon as their eyes met, Billy’s widened in horror.

In that moment, Steve made mistake number one. He knew he should run. He should get the fuck out of there and never speak of this moment again and hope that Billy doesn’t go a second round on his face. Instead, his feet stayed rooted to the patchy grass of the Hargrove’s backyard, finally planted like Billy always said to do.

Billy was glaring. As Steve watched in numb fascination, Billy threw on a pair of sweatpants and stalked to the window, heavy and dangerous even after what Steve had just witnessed. A snarl split the silence as Billy threw open his window. That was mistake number two, and they both realized it a second too late.

Billy smelled like _heaven_. Steve only realized he was producing his own scent after catching Billy’s. Billy’s body _begged_ for an alpha, and Steve’s body was ready to respond, even if his head hadn’t caught up yet. He was painfully hard against his jeans, canines sharp and bared in an answering growl as Billy’s Heat-drenched smell washed over him.

Judging by Billy’s white knuckled grip on the windowsill, Steve wondered if it was the only thing holding him upright. Considering the sheen of sweat on Billy’s body and the way he still seemed to be catching his breath, Steve might not have been far off.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Harrington?” he asked, the growl in his voice more breathy and needy than Steve suspected he wanted it to be. Damn if it didn’t sound, to Steve’s hormone-addled ears, like Billy _wanted_ him to stay. 

It took Steve more than a few seconds to remember. “I was here to pick up Max,” he said, dragging his eyes obviously away from Billy’s bare chest and the drop of come still clinging to the peak of one stiff nipple. “It’s, ah, DnD night. The kids asked me to get her.”

o0o 

The brat could have warned him, Billy thought contemptuously. He fought to keep his knees locked upright as Steve’s gaze dropped lower again. The scent of _alpha_ washed in through the open window in intoxicating waves. “She’s not here,” he growled and Steve watched as Billy dug his palm hard enough into the window frame to bruise. “She’s on a camping trip with the _family_.”

Steve stepped closer to Billy’s window. Either Steve was stupid or desperate. Billy wasn’t sure and didn’t care to find out.

“Oh,” he said, the very picture of braindead alpha with an omega in his sights. “Are you--you’re not _alone_ , are you?” 

The empty house behind Billy felt vast and terrifying for one dizzying second as he debated how to respond. His hormones were screaming at him to leap over the windowsill and drag Harrington back inside with him, to rut and fuck and _mate_. The more rational voice, the one that said what a bad idea it would be to let the alpha, who also happened to be the ex-king of his new high school and the guy he beat half to death only a few months ago, fuck him, felt small and far away. The longer he stared at Steve, the harder it got to spit out the, “Fuck off,” he desperately wanted to say.

Steve stepped closer again, and Billy let out a warning growl.

The growl hardly deterred the wide-eyed alpha. “You shouldn’t be alone like this,” Steve said.

A part of Billy agreed. The wild, base part of his brain, overwhelmed by the hormones flooding through his body and the sweet-smelling alpha _so close he could practically touch_ , begged him to give in. It was so easy to give in to instinct.

“Are you saying you want to _help me out_?” he asked, aiming for sarcastic and hitting somewhere closer to desperate.

“If you want,” Steve said and stepped close enough to touch through the open window.

The scent of alpha washed over Billy like an ocean wave every time he inhaled, powerful and overwhelming. “Then what are you waiting for, _alpha_ ,” he asked, shifting back from the window. It was all the invitation Steve needed.

The ex-king of Hawkins’ High was a fucking _klutz_ , Billy observed as Steve clambered through the window. The alpha crashed to the floor with a noise that would have brought everyone in the house running if they hadn’t already left. “Close the window first, moron,” he said, stopping Steve’s movement toward him after he popped back up from the floor. He got a half-hearted glare for his tone, but at least Steve listened, a rarity for an alpha who knew the person talking down to him was an omega. A different kind of heat washed through him, a warm river between the raging fire of Heat-induced lust.

No matter what anyone told him about the alpha who used to rule their little school, all Billy had ever seen was someone _good_ right down to the core. It made him bristle with rage as much as it made him _want_.

The slam of the window in its frame dragged him back to the present. With the little circulation provided by the open window gone, their scents were trapped in Billy’s room. They mingled and saturated his every breath with impossible _rightness_. He knew it was the Heat talking, but for a moment, as he watched Steve close the blinds with a deft twist of one strong wrist, a fantasy played out in his head. A fantasy of the future, a future Billy would never have, could never let himself have. A future with a mate by his side, there to care for him and be cared for by him, to help him through all his Heats and provide him with a place that felt like home.

With a growl, he shook off the useless fantasy and grabbed Steve before the alpha could move away from the window. Steve squeaked as he was spun. He didn’t fight Billy’s hold, even when he was dropped unceremoniously on the bed with Billy on top of him, pinning him down. “If you tell _anyone_ about this, I’ll make what happened in November look like a fucking picnic,” Billy warned, voice a dark rumble deep in his chest.

“I’m not going to tell anyone!” Steve yelped. His voice went surprisingly high and squeaky for an alpha. Beneath his hips, though, Billy could feel the proof of Steve’s status straining against his ass. The hot brand of Steve’s cock beneath him was distracting, and it was so hard not to just give in without making sure Steve knew _exactly_ what this was.

“Just making sure we’re clear, Harrington.”

Steve nodded at him, wrists slack in Billy’s grip on either side of his head. His pupils were blown wide with lust and his hips kept twitching against Billy’s ass, but he made no move to take anything he had not yet been granted. It was too much for Billy’s already frayed sense of self-control. 

“Good,” he growled and crashed their mouths together. There was no finesse to the kiss, no gentle prelude or hesitant exploration. It was a forest fire meeting a hurricane, two forces of nature unleashed in clashing teeth and swallowed growls. Every nerve in Billy’s body sang with it--the promise of _finally_ getting satisfaction coursing through his veins.

As soon as he let go of Steve’s hands to get at his pants, Steve’s fingers buried themselves in his hair, pulling at the messy, sweaty curls to crush their mouths closer together. He groaned, losing track of his body at the sparks of pleasure that swept through him with every tug against his scalp. Beneath him, Steve laughed into his mouth and yanked harder.

Billy was going to burn right to ash if he didn’t get Steve’s dick inside him as soon as humanly possible. With that thought in mind, his fingers flew back into motion, getting Steve’s zipper down and his (huge, beautiful, _amazing_ ) dick out of his pants. He lifted his hips enough to shove his sweatpants down his ass, dick still trapped beneath the waistband but less important than his aching hole, and sank back down. Billy rocked his hips back and used one hand to guide Steve to his dripping entrance. Steve slid inside him like they were puzzle pieces made to fit together. He didn’t even realize they had stopped kissing, their mouths separated as he rested his forehead against Steve and breathed the alpha’s air for a few long moments. It took longer than expected to adjust to the feeling of _finally_ having an alpha inside him.

“Please,” Steve whispered. Billy’s eyes opened to find Steve’s gaze burning into him, eyes wild and body one tense line. It was as though he was fighting every instinct in his body to give Billy the chance to adjust.

The rush of power that burned through Billy’s chest was _almost_ better than having Steve inside him. “Please what?” he asked, tongue darting out to wet his kiss-bitten lips.

Steve’s fingers tightened painfully in his hair, his nails digging into Billy’s scalp. “Move,” Steve growled, shooting an entirely different heat straight through Billy’s core.

“As you wish, _alpha._ ”

Billy rocked forward, reveling in the feel of Steve sliding against his insides till only the tip was left inside, and then slammed back down, taking Steve to the hilt. A wild cry of pleasure punched its way out of his gut and his blood sang as he finally took what he needed. Steve’s hands flew from his hair to his hips, twin brands that marked him to the bone as he repeated the maneuver. The pace he set was brutal. It was _perfect._

Under him, Steve’s hips bucked up to meet his ass every time he rocked down, his dick sliding against Billy’s prostate with every thrust. The sound of their skin slapping together mingled with their moans. Steve was neither loud nor quiet, his lips instead spilling a constant babble of, “Yes, fuck, you’re so fucking hot, jesus.” Billy, used to the dulling effect of suppressants on his pleasure with the beta girls he’d fucked before, drowned so deep in the euphoria of satisfying his basest instincts that growls and moans and pleasured cries ripped themselves with equal abandon from his throat, unhindered by lingering self-consciousness.

Too soon and not nearly soon enough, Billy’s orgasm crashed over him with the force of a typhoon. A cry wrenched up from his core, loud and low and nearly painfully intense. His release spilled into his sweatpants, sticky and warm. It hit him in waves, drawn out in what felt like endless aftershocks, spilling more barren semen into the soaked fabric clinging to his thighs. His body jerked like a marionette and then slumped, strings cut till his body recovered.

Steve immediately took advantage of his limp form. He wrapped surprisingly strong arms around Billy’s back and flipped them. Billy’s back hit the bed and his head tipped loosely back onto the pillow, baring his neck to Steve’s lips and teeth. Steve pulled back just enough to yank Billy’s sweatpants off entirely, and then he was back between Billy’s thighs, folding Billy nearly in half as he sank back in. The new angle drove Steve’s cock right against his prostate, and he howled, pleasure slamming into him so hard it was almost painful. Over-sensitive nerves lit up like sparklers beneath his skin, bright and burning and _beautiful_.

Another orgasm tore through him, simultaneously sweet and agonizing from being so close on the heels of the first. It was in tandem with the feel of Steve tipping off the edge, buried deep inside him and filling him with seed. If Billy’s brain hadn’t been too busy melting out his ears, he would have been grateful for the inability of male omegas to get pregnant, allowing Steve to fuck him without a condom during his Heat. 

While still spilling his release inside Billy, Steve’s mouth skated over Billy’s mating gland, teeth barely grazing the skin. Normally, Billy would have fucked him up for even thinking about touching the area. In that moment, with his come covering them both and Steve’s come dripping from his ass, he almost wanted Steve to bite down.

The thought terrified him, but the cage of Steve’s body over his kept him from bolting.

The shrill ring of the kitchen phone startled them both out of the moment. Steve drew back to stare at him, eyes wide with sudden fear.

“Fuck!” he breathed. “The kids!”

They nearly killed each other tripping over their entwined limbs to escape the bed. Steve made it to the phone in the kitchen just as it stopped ringing.

“Shit,” he said. “What if they send someone here to figure out why I never showed up with Max? You have to call them back!”

“Why do _I_ have to call the geek squad?”

“Because I think you’d rather call them than try to explain why I’m at your place?”

“Fine,” Billy snarled. “Whose house do I call?”

“They were all meeting at Mike’s.”

Billy stared at him blankly. Steve sighed.

“Wheeler’s,” he clarified. “Nancy’s brother.”

“Right,” Billy said and flipped through the little book by the phone for Max’s friends till he found the right number. It took a while to convince the nerd herd that Maxine really was off camping over the weekend. Each passing second ratcheted up his irritation. 

“If any of you little geeks come over here and try to break into my house for my step-sister who’s _not fucking here_ , you’ll be spending the rest of the day in the fucking hospital,” he growled at the phone. The troublesome pipsqueaks broke into another flurry of arguing amongst themselves, but Billy had had enough. He was half out of his mind with trying to concentrate on something other than the Heat still licking like fire through his veins and dripping slick down his thighs, and he was _done_ talking to children. He slammed the phone back in its cradle without even saying goodbye, and he was finally alone with Steve again. If he didn’t get his hands back on Steve in about two seconds, he was pretty sure he was gonna either die or kill someone.

But first - “Close the fucking blinds and make sure every last goddamn door is locked,” he said as he gripped the countertop hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a poor effort not to jump Steve right there on the kitchen floor.

“Right,” Steve said, and he sounded just as breathless as Billy felt.

Billy stalked after him as soon as he felt like he could move without his legs turning to jello under him. The kitchen had only one small window that was easily covered by the lacy curtains Susan had put up when they first moved in. The living room blinds were already shut and covered with another set of curtains. Thank fucking christ for Susan and her obsession with pretty curtains all over the house. He paused in the living room to close his eyes and breathe. He reminded himself that even Maxine’s dumbass little friends wouldn’t be stupid enough to break into the Hargrove house to look for her.

When he opened his eyes, Steve was back in front of him.

The temperature inched up a few degrees as they stared at each other. The air in the room close and thick with the smell of sex lingering on them both. It made Billy’s skin feel too tight on his frame. His body ached to reach out, to touch, but he couldn’t quite bridge the few inches that remained between himself and Steve.

“If you don’t fucking get back inside me, I’m going to kill you,” Billy settled for saying. His tongue darted out to wet dry lips. Steve’s mouth quirked in a grin, teeth as sharp as Susan’s favorite steak knives in the low light of the living room.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I can do that.” That was all the warning Billy got before Steve pounced. Even with his technically superior strength, Billy’s muscles felt like putty beneath Steve’s hands. Those hands burned where they touched bare skin, gripping and pulling and shoving till Billy was bent over the couch, ass in the air, presenting to Steve like the bitch in Heat that he was.

“Wait,” he said, fear of Neil leaving a few cells alive in his sex-numbed brain. “I can’t fucking clean semen out of the couch.”

The next thing he knew, Steve’s shirt was between him and the rough fabric of Neil’s couch, and all of Steve’s bare skin was pressed against his back like a furnace as Steve nipped at his ear and his neck. “I got you. I’m gonna take care of you,” Steve whispered against his shoulder blade. The words made something soft and foreign twist up in Billy’s stomach. Luckily, Steve didn’t give him too much time to think on the feelings inspired by his words. He snapped his hips forward and drove into Billy’s slick, open hole in one long thrust. 

Billy moaned and arched back to meet Steve’s hips. “Fuck,” he groaned, “ _harder_ , ‘m not gonna fucking break.”

A low growl rumbled through Steve’s chest, loud enough that Billy could feel the vibrations of it in his back where Steve was still pressed against him. “You’re so fucking hot,” Steve mumbled and followed his words with a nip to his shoulder. His teeth were dangerously close to Billy’s mating gland, but the rush of flame-bright _desire_ they sent flooding through him pushed any anxiety to the back of his mind.

“Gonna mark me up, pretty boy?” he asked, needling Steve, wondering just how far the alpha would lose himself. Wondering just how far he would let Steve go.

“Look so pretty with my bruises on your skin,” Steve slurred against the back of his neck. His fingers tightened on Billy’s hips and yanked him back further onto his cock. The angle allowed Steve to press every inch of his thick, hard cock so deep inside Billy that he could almost taste it in the back of his throat.

“Then mark me, _King Steve_ ,” Billy breathed, the words tumbling over themselves as he struggled to drag enough air into his lungs to keep talking.

Steve growled again even louder this time. His hips slammed into Billy’s ass, the sharp slap of flesh on flesh as loud as their labored breathing. Blunt nails dug into Billy’s hips and scratched red lines into the soft flesh. The scratches stung, but it was a bright, _good_ kind of sting that only enhanced the pleasure of Steve fucking into him. “ _Mine_ ,” Steve growled.

Billy knew it was the alpha talking and his omega hormones that made the word blaze through him like a wildfire burning right to his core, but the knowledge didn’t stop the instinctive whine that tore from his throat. Didn’t stop the way his body arched and went pliant at the same time, trying to submit to Steve as slick flooded out of him, dripping onto the wooden floor with every one of Steve’s wet thrusts. “ _Mine_ ,” Steve growled again, and he bit down hard enough to draw blood from the meat of Billy’s shoulder, just below the mating gland. 

Billy screamed as he came, every nerve ending lit up like miniature supernovas beneath his skin. Galaxies collided in his belly and stars exploded in gleaming bursts of vibrant color behind closed eyelids. It was pleasure the likes of which he’d never dreamed of, never known, pleasure so overwhelming it hurt all the way down to his bones. The whole world shattered as he came and felt Steve coming inside him simultaneously, pieces drifting away and rearranging into something new and terrifying and _beautiful_.

By the time his brain stopped melting out his ears, he knew something was wrong ( _right_ , the omega inside him said and curled around the feeling like a cat curling up in a patch of sunshine). Steve’s hips hitched, his still-hard cock rubbing over Billy’s prostate, as the alpha nuzzled the sluggishly bleeding bite mark he’d made, and Billy pinpointed the source of the new feeling - he’d been knotted.

He tried to jerk away at the realization, but Steve’s knot kept them locked together. It tugged at his rim and rubbed against his prostate again with the movement. Sparklers went off behind his eyes, bones turning to jelly as Steve’s arms snaked around his waist to hold his still. “Stay,” the alpha said, voice a wet exhale against the curve of Billy’s spine.

Billy stayed.

It took nearly half an hour for the swelling to go down enough to separate. Even after Billy pulled away, deftly avoiding Steve’s lazily grasping hands trying to pull him back for more cuddling, he felt startlingly satisfied. The bone deep, burning itch inside him had been scratched, leaving behind the dregs of his Heat as a hunger only skin deep. The panicking voice in his mind worrying over being knotted couldn’t entirely erase the purring contentment from how completely he had been claimed and owned, filled full of Steve in every way his body had been craving.

He padded down the hall to his room on shaky limbs. Steve followed behind him, a presence at his back that was equally comforting and irritating. When he collapsed into his bed, smearing sweat and come and lube all over his sheets, Steve didn’t wait for permission before crawling in behind him and snuggling into him. Lean, strong arms wrapped around Billy as Steve burrowed as close as possible, his breath warm against Billy’s neck. His chin rested close to the bite mark, close to the mating gland, but Billy couldn’t find the energy inside himself to shove Steve away. The worst of his Heat was satisfied, but there was still a syrupy slowness to Billy’s mind. It muffled the fears that tried to gain purchase and soothed out any tension that tried to coil into slack muscles.

Billy felt the way Steve smiled against the side of his neck and how he slid one warm hand down his belly. Long fingers circled the base of his cock in a loose grip, and a wet tongue darted out to lick the bite mark. Billy shivered as his cock twitched and began to harden beneath Steve’s soft strokes.

“You want one more?” Steve whispered, breath warm and wet against the shell of Billy’s ear. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak in the state he was in. Vulnerability curled in his gut alongside arousal. It was as frightening as it was exhilarating.

Steve’s fingers tightened around him. They twisted over the head of his sensitive cock in a way that had him gasping, pressing back against Steve in spite of himself. Behind him, Steve was soft, a fact that provoked a surprising lack of disappointment. His hole was still pleasantly sore from the stretch of Steve’s knot. It was easily the biggest thing he’d ever had inside him. The need from earlier to have something, anything, stretching him open and filling him up had faded. The feel of Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock, lazily jerking him off, was enough.

A moment later, he amended his conclusion when Steve began using his other hand to play with his nipples. He bit his bottom lip to stifle a groan of pleasure, but he couldn’t hide the way his cock jerked in Steve’s hand and spilled a few drops of precome over his fingers.

Steve was going to ruin him. 

The thought wormed inside Billy’s head as Steve’s deft fingers edged him closer to his sixth orgasm. After this experience, how was he supposed to move on without ever having this again? Obviously he _couldn’t_ have this again. Getting attached to one person was dangerous. Once an alpha had an omega claimed and marked, that omega would never be free again. Amazing sex wasn’t worth the price of his freedom.

It was really fucking amazing sex, though.

Steve’s grip shifted and stroked harder, from base to tip, at the same time he gave one nipple a vicious pinch. Billy whimpered and squirmed. His orgasm built more slowly and gently than the previous ones of that day, but it was no less inexorable, a natural phenomenon as predictable and unavoidable as the Pacific tides.

“Mmm,” Steve mumbled against his back. He mouthed wetly at smooth skin and nipped at the curve of muscle over Billy’s shoulder blade. “I _like_ touching you.” The tone was almost reverent. 

Billy had no idea what to do with the warm, fluttering sensation at his core. He aimed for his signature confidence but fell rather short when he replied, “I like you touching me, too, pretty boy.”

He could feel the way Steve smiled against his back. If not for the persistent Heat haze, he might have thought more about the way it made him feel to have that smile pressing kisses into muscles built for violence. Instead, the bulk of his focus was on the physical sensations of Steve pressed against him and the way his fingers twisted in expert strokes over his cock and chest. 

The wave building in his gut finally spilled over in stripes of white that dripped down Steve’s fingers and onto the bed. It was an orgasm almost as gentle as the hand job that brought it on. Steve held him through his whimpering and shaking. When it was over, Steve’s smile pressed firm against the highest knob of his spine, and he didn’t let go.

“Can I keep holding you?” Steve asked, even as he wrapped himself like an octopus around Billy.

“Sure, whatever,” Billy replied. He felt overwhelmed and finally exhausted. Everything was soft and muted inside his head, and all he wanted to do was sleep in Steve’s arms.

Warm evening light stretched shadows across the floor as he napped in fits and starts. By the time night fell, his Heat was fading out, body satisfied at having been so thoroughly used by an alpha. The contentment of being used remained even as the need for it departed. It was a feeling unlike anything else Billy had ever experienced, warm and enveloping. All his worries and concerns were smothered beneath a lingering mist through which no strong emotion besides happiness could penetrate.

When his stomach grumbled, making known one area of discomfort that he couldn’t completely ignore, Steve laughed into his neck. It was a pleasant, rumbly sound that vibrated through Steve’s chest where it pressed against his back.

“Do you have any food in your kitchen?” Steve asked as he leaned up to rest his chin on Billy’s shoulder. “I can make you something.”

Billy grunted. “Susan left some shit in the fridge,” he said grudgingly. “Could probably just shove it in the microwave.”

“Alright. I’ll grab some and be right back.” He planted a kiss on Billy’s cheek. The bed dipped and bounced, and then Steve was gone.

Billy rolled over on his back, wincing at the warm lube and semen that trickled from his well-used hole. The only positive side of being knotted was that it had ended his Heat earlier than it would have otherwise, which meant he had the whole next day to clean. And he was going to have _so much_ to clean. If his dad caught a single whiff of strange alpha in his home, Billy was dead meat.

Anxiety rose in a swirling mess of knots in his gut as he thought about the cleaning. He’d have to air the whole place out, and the couch had to be scrubbed. His sheets would need bleach, most likely, and he had to remember to wash the floor between his bedroom and the kitchen, in case any lube or semen had dripped on the carpet or the hardwood in the kitchen. The house would have to be immaculate if he wanted to survive the indulgence he’d been too weak to reject.

His breathing had turned harsh and fast when the creak of footsteps outside his door distracted him.

Steve rounded the doorframe, food his hands and a smile on his face. The scent of happy alpha trailed him like a blanket that immediately wrapped around Billy and untangled the knots of fear. Billy almost hated how complacent Steve’s scent made him, a stark contrast to his emotions mere moments ago. His frustration didn’t matter when Steve leaned over to kiss him, his body pliant and responsive even as he made plans to kick Steve out before he fell asleep that night. An unclear head would be too dangerous, tomorrow.

“Hey,” Steve said while he looked at Billy with a disquieting amount of fondness in his dark brown eyes, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Billy said. “Just hungry.”

Steve gestured to the bowls of soup on Billy’s nightstand. “That’s why I brought you food, asshole,” he said, still far too fond and soft. “You’re not waiting for me to feed you, are you? I didn’t think that was something you were into, but if you want…”

Billy scrambled to sit up as Steve laughed at him. He grabbed the nearest bowl, holding it close with a glare. “You try to feed me and I’ll shove this spoon right through your hand,” he growled. King-fucking-Steve had the audacity to smile at his threat.

They ate in silence. Billy tried not to look at Steve much. The fond look on Steve’s face kept doing funny things to his insides. Things that made him want to ask Steve to stick around, even though he _knew_ what a bad idea that would be.

“I can get you more if you want,” Steve said, when Billy’s spoon scraped against the bottom of the bowl. Billy handed the empty bowl over without a word. He watched Steve’s form as he retreated, the knots tying back together in his stomach as soon the alpha left the room.

Billy didn’t _want_ to kick Steve out. What he wanted was to drag Steve back down into his bed, to let Steve wrap his long limbs around Billy and to pretend that the future didn’t exist. It was a stupid fucking dream, the kind he didn’t usually indulge in. But he ached with it, the truth of his desire for more than just sex unavoidable when Steve was next to him. He _couldn’t_ let himself lose control.

His resolve almost crumbled, anyway, when Steve returned a second time, this time with toast balanced on top of the bowls. While Steve’s back was turned to set the food down, Billy took a deep breath and steeled his resolve.

“I think it’s about time you left,” he said, voice rough and choked as he did his best not to breathe too deeply and lose himself again in Steve’s smell.

Steve froze. “Oh,” he said, still facing away.

“That was fun and all, but the Heat’s over and I don’t need you sticking around and coddling me. I’m not some useless chick who needs a goddamn nanny. Just because my fucking biology needs a good dicking sometimes doesn’t mean we’re _dating_ now.” The words kept spilling out, an unstoppable babble of cruelty designed to override any arguments Steve might have had. “I appreciate the dick and the food, but now you can get the fuck out of my house.”

Steve’s voice was thick when he replied. “Yeah,” he said, the tone making Billy cringe inside. “Sure. Whatever, man.” He still wouldn’t look at Billy.

Billy leaned back against the wall and grabbed a bowl. “What are you waiting for, then?” he asked. The words came easier the more he spoke. “I don’t see you leaving.”

Steve straightened up and his bare shoulders formed one tense line. The brittle, fake smile on his face when he finally faced Billy drove cold spikes of shame through his belly. Unlike Steve, he didn’t let his emotions show on his face.

“Jesus,” Steve bit out through his plastic smile. “I’m fucking going, alright? Do you want me to grab my clothes first, or were you planning to burn them?”

“I was planning to keep them so I could cry about how much I miss you when you’re gone,” Billy said, threading sarcasm heavy through his voice even as a small part of his mind thought that sounded like a great idea.

Steve snorted. “Since I’d rather you didn’t do that, I’ll take them with me.”

They were both silent as Steve hunted on the floor for discarded clothing. Billy only raised one eyebrow when Steve paused in the doorway. With a shake of his head, he finally disappeared. The sounds of Steve retrieving his shirt in the living room faded into the slam of the front door, and then Billy was alone again.

Soup that he no longer had any appetite for sloshed over the sides of the bowl when he slammed it back on the nightstand. He slumped down in his bed, eyes fixed on Steve’s untouched seconds next to his mess. With Steve’s departure, Billy’s room seemed darker. He kind of wished Steve had left something of his behind for him to cry into. The whole room still reeked of Steve, so in a way, something had been left behind.

He’d have to make sure that was gone, too, before Neil returned.


End file.
